My desk, 7:30 a.m., coffee in front of me, still untouched – waiting. Trying to see through blurry eyes as I wobble the mouse arrow to the send/receive button and check my email. Among the regular crap, a familiar subject: “PyratSail…Comment, Beer Can Island”. Cool, somebody posted a comment on PyratSail. Below is what the poster, ”Duke” wrote.
Comment:
Yea, keep your stuffy snob self away from Beer Can.
We have fun here and don’t need you looking down at us. **ck off.
I added the asterisks ’cause Mom reads my blog.
So, it’s 7:31, I’m wondering: what the heck is up in Duke’s craw, what did I write – is this for real? I found the source of Duke’s butt bug and tried to figure it out. Blah, blah, hotter than hell, powerboaters, powerdrinkers, dirty water, cargo ships…blah blah. I can find no words ranking Duke and his island brethren somewhere between the swine flu and shaven headed banjo players (which I am thank you very much). WTF.
I take a sip of the cheap Sam’s Club coffee, but it’s not helping. I’m irritated. A few snippy replies run through my head, but as soon as my hands curl up to type I realize you can’t reason with **ck off. That one is a conversation ender – try it sometime.
Without a good reply or any kind of brain activity at 7:32 a.m., I spam the comment and move on. Still, it bugs me all day. My first heckler. Snobby? Duke really took offense to my review of his fun spot - or apparently him. All I can figure is he interpreted powerdrinkers=bad and Duke=powerdrinker so Duke=bad! Duke smash!
Duke is so angry – how can a sailor get so upset? I mean, he couldn’t possibly be a powerboater. He probably doesn’t own a 22′ center console with a T-Top, 200 hp Evinrude, named something like Need For Speed with a swoosh plastered on the side. He probably doesn’t dump her off the trailer every weekend, fish around Tampa Bay and then throw back some Milwaukee’s Best with his buddies on the island. There’s no way he would do that. He’s Duke, Defender of Beer Can.
Duke knows the code. He knows sailors are born with a natural dislike for powerboaters. They are the ying to our yang - the dog crap to our green lawn. Powerboaters see a slow moving sailboat as nothing more than an obstacle to veer around at high speed. Powerboaters (grrr) have spilled our beer, splashed saltwater in our drinks (true story) and caused countless other booze wrecks with their wakes. We’re natural enemies – cheetah/gazelle, Jon/Kate, Duke/words.
- It’s a law of nature
I’ve decided Duke’s comment had to be aimed at the snobby powerboaters that cavort around the island, looking down at the windships that slide in with grace and beauty, dropping their hook far away from where others just “runner up on the beach”. Good for you Duke. I agree – eff off you stinkpots - we’re havin’ fun here!
